


How To Win The Break Up

by wordyanansi



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Teacher!Bellamy, Teacher!Clarke, Tumblr Prompt, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordyanansi/pseuds/wordyanansi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“Lily’s getting married and I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend and come with me,” Bellamy says, ripping the band-aid off quickly. She laughs for a moment, folds the newspaper and places it on the table, and then turns to look at him.</em><br/>“You’re serious,” she says. Bellamy nods.</p><p> </p><p>It's a pretty stupid plan, but it just might work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Win The Break Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyugh/gifts).



The invitation lay on the counter where it had fallen after being opened. Bellamy and Miller stood side by side, beers in hand, eyeing it like it was about to explode.

“It’s not a genuine invitation, is it? I mean, it can’t be,” Miller says, and takes a sip of his beer.

“I have to go though, don’t I? If I don’t go, she’s won,” Bellamy says, taking a larger pull of his beer.  The stand in silence a little longer, drinking.

“If you go without a date, I think she might have won, mate,” Miller offers. “Not that, you know, there’s meant to be a winner and a loser in these things.” Bellamy shook his head without taking his eyes off the invitation.

“Just because there isn’t supposed to be doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” Bellamy says contemplatively. He takes another pull of beer, only to find the bottle empty, and doesn’t know quite how that happened so fast. “She broke my fucking heart,” Bellamy says quietly. “And then she pitied me. I think I have to go.” Miller nods, turning to look at his friend.

“Then you need a date. Preferably of the hot female persuasion,” he says, and then pauses. “Are you seeing anyone?” Bellamy scowls.

“No.” Miller takes a moment to process this, and tries to find a way to say the next thing that won’t get him punched. He comes up short, and takes a punt anyway.

“Have you dated anyone since…,” Miller says, but he doesn’t say her name. Can’t say her name. Bellamy’s scowl deepens.

“I’ve been busy,” Bellamy grounds out. “And I’ve been happy.” Miller puts his hands up in supplication.

“I’m not judging you, mate, I’m just asking,” Miller says. Bellamy drops his scowl and sighs.

“So,” Bellamy says, eyeing the invitation again. If it were a movie, he thinks, there would be cut scenes and booming sound effects for every line on the damn thing.

_Boom_

Lily Anne Johnson & John Ryan Mbege

_Boom_

Formally request your presence at their wedding

“So?” Miller asks, shaking him from his reverie.

“I need to find a girlfriend or convince someone to act like my girlfriend for the wedding by the RSVP date in three weeks,” Bellamy says. Miller nods.

“You’re going to find a fake girlfriend, aren’t you?” he asks. Bellamy glares at him. Miller stares him down until Bellamy shrugs giving in. He sighs and moves to the refrigerator to pull out another beer.

“Yep,” Bellamy says as he flicks the bottle cap off. “I’m going to find a fake girlfriend.” Miller nods, taking this in for a moment.

“This is the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,” Miller tells him. “Seriously stupid.” Bellamy raises his eyebrows.

“Does that mean you won’t help me?” Bellamy asks. He knows that Miller got an invitation too, and he’ll need his best friend’s back up if he plans on pulling this off. Miller grins at him.

“Of course I’m in,” he replies and offers his beer in a toast.

“Cheers,” Bellamy says, clinking their bottles together.

 

“I need you to do me a favour,” Bellamy says, sitting down beside Clarke in the staff room the next day. She raises her eyebrows and quirks her mouth with amusement as she looks up from the newspaper. Her entire expression reads: _‘this ought to be good’._ He wonders if he should change his mind. But if he was going to start making smart decisions he would have done it years ago.

“Lily’s getting married and I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend and come with me,” Bellamy says, ripping the band-aid off quickly. She laughs for a moment, folds the newspaper and places it on the table, and then turns to look at him.

“You’re serious,” she says. Bellamy nods. She bites her lip.

“Why are you going to her wedding?” Clarke asks, genuinely curious. Bellamy sighs.

“Because I was a pathetic mess when she left me for the guy she’s marrying, and she pitied me and it was pathetic and I want to show I’m not pathetic,” Bellamy admits. Clarke’s clearly trying not to smile, she’s just very bad at it. It’s one of those moments where Bellamy remembers that she’s not just this sarcastic science teacher he works with, but she’s actually really beautiful.

“And bringing a fake girlfriend to the wedding isn’t pathetic?” Clarke asks. Bellamy sighs.

“Better than bringing no girlfriend, or worse, just dating some poor unsuspecting girl just because I need a girlfriend to bring to the wedding,” Bellamy offers. Clarke snorts.

“You could just not go to the wedding, you know,” Clarke tells him.

“That’s what Raven said,” Bellamy said. Clarke laughs again, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“So I’m not the first girl you asked to be your fake girlfriend?” Clarke asks. Bellamy winced, he probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s not polite to ask a girl to tell her she wasn’t your first choice of fake girlfriend, right? Oh well, in for a penny, he thinks.

“You were third,” he admits. “Raven told me I was an idiot and I shouldn’t go. Harper said Lily knew she was gay because of Mel, and then Mel told her to tell me I should try and get a real girlfriend. But that seemed like a lot of hard work, and unethical for the girl.” Clarke covers her mouth with her hand and he knows she’s trying not to laugh again. He huffs, leans back in his chair, and folds his arms.

“Are you going to be my fake girlfriend or not?” he asks. She licks her lips and frowns slightly, still clearly way too amused at his predicament.

“Why me? Raven’s one of your best friends, and Harper has no chance of falling for you. So why me?” she asks.

“Harper was on the list because she hated Lily. And Miller said I should pick someone attractive. I haven’t slept with you, you’ve shown no signs of wanting to sleep with me, and you don’t have a boyfriend. You fit all the criteria,” Bellamy shrugged.

“Well that’s flattering, I suppose,” Clarke said dryly. Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Will you just answer the question please?” Bellamy asked, starting to feel embarrassment that manifested as irritation. Clarke shook her head and leaned back in her chair.

“Not a chance,” she replied happily. Bellamy frowned, offended by the glee in her tone.

“Why not?” he demands. Clarke laughs a little.

“Because I’ve seen way too many rom coms to agree to this clearly stupid plan. These people pretend to be all in love, for whatever reasons, lines get blurred, and feelings become an issue, and everything gets weird,” Clarke explains. “It’s stupid and I’m not doing it.” Bellamy thinks about this for a moment.

“So you think you’ll develop feelings for me?” Bellamy asks. “I understand. I am incredibly attractive, smart, and great in bed.” Clarke snickers.

“I’m more worried about you, Bell. You just admitted you think I’m attractive, and a challenge.  We’re gonna slow dance, and probably kiss at least once, and then you’re going to be all ‘Clarke, I love you, I can’t stop thinking about you’, and it’s not gonna happen,” Clarke explains. Bellamy snickers.

“Clarke, there is no way I’m going to develop feelings for you,” Bellamy scoffs. Clarke smirks. The bell sounds in the staffroom.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Blake. I’m still not fake dating you,” Clarke tells him, standing up. “See you at lunch,” she adds. Bellamy wants to say something else, but he leaves it. He takes over her lunch duty at the halfway point. He’ll bring it up again then.

Bellamy walks down to the quad where Clarke is waiting for him, coffee cup in each hand. She is laughing at something one of her ninth graders has said. He’s spent most of his down time between this morning and now thinking about what she said about him falling for her, and looking at her now, sun shining on her hair, dorky hat, head tipped back laughing, it’s not like he couldn’t fall in love with her. But they’ve been colleagues for three years and he kind of thinks that if it was going to happen, it would have happened by now.  She’s not without all the qualities he finds attractive, but they’d started out arguing viciously over scheduling and funding, and creating a rivalry between their respective ninth grade home rooms, and he hadn’t really noticed at first. He still forgets, sometimes, because in his head she’s just Clarke, and he can’t really see that changing.

 

Clarke grins at him as he approaches. The ninth grader, Fox, he thinks, looks between them curiously, but fades back at his approach.

“You bought coffee! This is why you’re my favourite history teacher,” Clarke tells him as she grabs for the mug and starts drinking.

“Well the other history teacher is…,” Bellamy begins, and then pauses, looking around to make sure none of the kids are close enough to hear.  He pauses, rethinking his word choice. “Not someone who would bring you coffee,” he finishes lamely. But Clarke has heard him rant enough to know that he thinks Thelonious Jaha is an unmitigated bore and a pretentious twat, and she laughs, because she agrees with him.

“Nothing’s happened worth mentioning in first half,” Clarke tells him. He nods, sipping his coffee, looking out at the sea of teenagers.

“I still think you should be my fake girlfriend for Lily’s wedding,” he comments quietly. Clarke snorts, and has to spit out her coffee.

“I thought we covered that this morning? Too many rom coms, not gonna happen,” Clarke reminds him.

“Ah,” Bellamy grins at her, “yes. And I think that’s a stupid reason for not agreeing. You’re scared of falling in love with me.” Clarke snorts again and rolls her eyes.

“Other way around, Mr. Blake,” she says dryly. Bellamy grins wickedly.

“Wanna bet?” he challenges her. The thing that he has known about Clarke since the day they met is that she justifies most of the ridiculous shit she does by saying “Griffins never surrender” and fighting to the death. She can not resist a challenge. Clarke narrows her eyes at him.

“I know what you’re doing,” she responds. “And you’re a pr… principally compromised individual.” Bellamy laughed at the save.

“I bet you, Miss Griffin, one hundred dollars that I won’t fall in love with you, but that you’re going to fall in love with me,” Bellamy challenges her. Clarke screws up her face, frustrated, turning away from him. He can’t help but grin. She’s really pissed that he’s manipulating her like this, and he thinks it is hilarious. A sane person would tell him he’s being an idiot, and she knows it, but she can’t do it. She throughs her hands in the air and makes a noise of irritation.

“Fine. Yes. I will be your fake girlfriend for Lily’s wedding, and I take you bet, because I’ve been eyeing a new pair of shoes, and you’re going to fall in love with me and I’ll be able to afford them,” Clarke announces.

“Deal,” Bellamy says, smirking at her smugly. She shakes her head and glances at her watch.

“I’ve got dissections this afternoon, I have to go prep. But we need to make time to get our story straight. Thursday dinner?” Clarke asks.

“Miss Griffin! Are you asking me out on a date?” Bellamy teases her. She rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, that works for me. Meet you at six pm at Lincoln’s Diner?” Clarke nods her agreement and heads off toward the science labs, waving behind her as she goes. Bellamy watches her for a moment, grinning. He’s got himself a fake girlfriend. Mission accomplished.

 

“This is a really stupid plan,” Miller tells him. “And Clarke Griffin of all people. This is going to be one of those cliché things where you realise you’re in love with her and everything is going to be weird because you work together.” Bellamy raises his eyebrows.

“That’s what she said,” Bellamy replies, tossing the ball to him, watching him do a lay-up.  Miller dribbles the ball for a moment, thinking.

“So why did she agree to do it?” Miller asks. Bellamy grins.

“I bet her a hundred bucks that I wouldn’t fall in love with her,” he says. Miller laughs, shakes his head, and tosses Bellamy the ball.

“So fucking stupid. You’re both idiots. Well, at least it will be entertaining for the rest of us,” Miller says as Bellamy shoots, the ball arcing gracefully into the net without touching the hoop.

“I appreciate the support,” Bellamy says dryly as Miller retrieves the ball.

“I said I’d back you up, and I meant it. I’m still allowed to think it’s stupid,” Miller replies. He tosses the ball back to Bellamy, and then pauses. “You remember the time you decided to streak at that basketball game with a bag over your head so no one would recognise you, but half of the cheerleaders had seen you naked and recognised you?” Bellamy winces.

“What has that got to do with anything?” Bellamy asks.

“Well, that was the stupidest thing you’d ever done. But this is stupider,” Miller says, grinning.

“Screw you, Miller,” Bellamy replies, and throws the ball at his head.

 

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have suggested the diner that his sister and her fiancé own for dinner. But he liked the food, they’d been there before as friends, and it wouldn’t be weird. Or at least, he thought it wouldn’t be weird.

“Oh my goodness, are you guys on a date?” O exclaimed, and Bellamy could almost see an overuse of punctuation in her voice. Clarke snorted and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“I suppose we are, kind of,” Clarke says thoughtfully after a moment. “It’s our first fake date.” Bellamy shook his head and huffed out a laugh.

“Fake date?” Octavia asked. Then she grimaced. “Bellamy Blake you are not going to that bitch’s wedding! I thought Raven was joking.”

“I thought Raven was _my_ friend, so I guess we’re all under some misapprehensions,” Bellamy says dryly, while Clarke looks on amused.

“Why are you going to her wedding? Why did she even invite you?” Octavia asks. Bellamy sighs, getting sick of having this conversation with everyone.

“He wants to win the breakup,” Clarke supplies. Octavia thinks about this for a moment, then nods.

“Fair enough,” she agrees. “What are you ordering?”

“Burger,” Clarke says. “And fries.” Octavia jots it down and then looks over at her brother.

“Got any chicken afritada?” Bellamy asks. Octavia rolls her eyes at his choice, nods, and disappears back into the kitchen. When he looks back to her, Clarke’s frowning at him.

“That isn’t on the menu,” she states. Bellamy shrugs.

“Yeah it is. It’s the chicken stew. It’s a Filipino stew my mother used to make. But people never ordered it so O changed it to chicken stew on the menu,” he explains. Clarke nods thoughtfully.

“So, down to business. Clearly we’re work colleagues, so that’s how we met.  I’m assuming you used to bitch about me to Lily before you broke up?” Clarke asks. Bellamy blinks at the bluntness of her tone and the look on her face that reads _‘down to business’_ , because it feels very sudden. But he catches up quickly.

“Yeah. I was thinking one of our arguments got heated and in each other’s faces and then we kissed, didn’t talk about it for a while, and then got together maybe around Easter?” Bellamy supplies. Clarke’s mouth quirks slightly.

“Did you used to think about kissing me when we argued?” she asks, and she sounds charmed. The truth is, he had thought about it once or twice, but he hadn’t thought about it in ages. Instead he smirks at her.

“Only as a means of shutting you up,” Bellamy says, and Clarke pokes out her tongue at him. “This will work a lot better if you don’t make everything I say into a question. I’m trying to develop a coherent, believable narrative here, not secretly confess my undying love.”

“Just wait. After the wedding, there will confessions of undying love, and I’ll say I told you so, take your money, and buy new shoes,” Clarke replies. “But fine. Coherent, believable narrative. Who kissed who?” Bellamy shrugs.

“Does it matter?” he asks. “Can’t we just kiss each other?”  Clarke shakes her head.

“You kissed me,” she decides. “And then we avoided each other for a month. Then we got sick of that, so I confronted you and you told me you loved me, and here we are.” Bellamy frowns.

“Why am I the one confessing here?” he asks. “Why can’t you be the one secretly pining for me?” Clarke sighs.

“Rom coms. Girls pining is pathetic, guys pining is manly and romantic,” Clarke says. “If you want this to convince Lily that you aren’t pathetic and pining, you need to have fallen in love with me first, and made a move.” Bellamy thinks about this for a moment, and decides she’s probably right.

“I want to confront you. The week before Easter break,” Bellamy says. “I missed you, even as just friends, and if I flamed out we had a week off to get over it and go back to normal.” Clarke considers this, and then nods.

“That works. Where did we go for our first date?” Clarke asks. Bellamy thinks about this for a moment, and he’s kind of impressed at the level of detail she wants to go into. He considers calling her out on it, but decides it isn’t worth the hassle.

“I don’t know. You’re the rom com queen, you tell me,” Bellamy decides in the end.

“You teach English and History. All the great love stories are in your wheelhouse,” Clarke points out. Bellamy tries not to smile, because he’s often thought the same thing. But most other people tell him that he’s got all the boredom and it’s all just _dates._ Which gives him an idea.

“The museum in Arcadia has a planetarium,” he says, smiling. “That’s where I’d take you. We can walk through the exhibits, and I can tell you interesting sidenotes about stuff, you can tell me about art. Then we watch the star show, and I’ll tell you about the myths associated with the constellations, and you’ll tell me about the universe and black holes.” Clarke is looking at him strangely when he finishes talking. Staring, even, and there’s this weird tension that wasn’t there before.  He shifts uncomfortably.

“That’s… um…,” Clarke tries, but she frowns, stopping. She shakes her head. “That’s kind of perfect,” she manages. Bellamy grins at the praise and Clarke coughs. “I kind of want to do that now,” she admits. “As friends.”  Bellamy considers it for a moment, and then shrugs.

“Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. And it would be fun,” Bellamy offers. Clarke nods awkwardly as Octavia arrives with their food.

“You guys look like you’re on a date, FYI. It’s adorable,” she tells them before she disappears back into the kitchen.

“Way to make it awkward, Octavia,” Bellamy mutters, and Clarke laughs, and the tension disappears.

 

“You do know that this is a really stupid idea,” Raven tells him, taking another slice of pizza. Bellamy rolls his eyes. She’d arrived with pizza fifteen minutes ago and informed him they were having a Mad Max marathon because _‘Wick is getting too boyfriend-y and it’s weird’._

“So Miller keeps telling me,” Bellamy responds dryly.

“I’m just saying, Clarke’s a babe, she’s too smart and funny for you not to get attached,” Raven continues.

“We’re just friends. There’s no more chance of Clarke and I hooking up than of you and I hooking up,” Bellamy tries. Raven gives him a look. “Again,” Bellamy amends, and Raven rolls her eyes.

“I think this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. And you’re going to be out a hundred bucks over it,” Raven says, and she sounds kind of happy about it.

“Do none of my friends have my back? Why does everyone think I’m going to fall in love with Clarke? We’ve known each other for three years, I see her almost every day, and I’ve managed to not fall in love with her,” Bellamy says, exasperated. Raven grins at him.

“Bro, I think you’re great, but we’ve been taking bets on when you and Clarke would hook up from like, the week after Lily left,” Raven says. “It’s classic. The fighting, the sexual tension… plus, she’s Clarke. What’s not to love about her? Hell, I’d consider jumping the proverbial fence for her.” Bellamy rolls his eyes.

“You guys need to find more entertaining things to do than bet on my love life,” he tells her. “Seriously. And honestly? I just don’t feel like that with Clarke.” Raven gave him a look of disbelief. “And if I did feel like that, I wouldn’t act on it, because we work together and I like being friends with her.” Raven shook her head.

“You’re in denial. And Clarke’s getting new shoes. If it’s any consolation, my money is on you both losing the bet,” Raven says. Bellamy looks at her in shock.

“You think Clarke is going to fall in love with me?” he asks, hating himself for the interest evident in his tone. Raven smirks at him.

“But you’re just friends,” Raven reminds him.

“Shut up, Reyes,” Bellamy replies, and takes another slice of pizza.

 

The trip to the museum was a terrible idea. The car ride there was fine, all joking and talking about music, and singing along to the radio dramatically. But then… about five minutes in, Bellamy notices something in one of the weaponry exhibits as Clarke is about to walk away, so he grabs her hand, pulling her back against him and points at the markings on the spear. Clarke leans into him and murmurs questions back, and Bellamy is delighted to have an interested audience. But she doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk around the history exhibits, and neither does he.  He doesn’t notice it at first, but then it seems weird to let go and weird to keep holding her hand, but he kind of like the contact. About three quarters of an hour in, they come across some art that makes Clarke’s face light, and she squeezes his hand and starts talking animatedly about chiaroscuro and the way it sets this really interesting mood, and Bellamy realises that maybe everyone was right. This might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. He also catches Clarke smiling at him out of the corner of his eye when he goes on rants about historical events and things he’s not meant to teach, but that are actually really cool. It’s not the fond smile O gives him, like she loves him but he’s an idiot, or the fake smile Lily used to give him because she was bored but willing to put him with him. It makes something in his chest feel warm, and he’s probably the biggest idiot ever to walk to the face of earth.

It gets worse when they go to the planetarium. Clarke drops her head against his shoulder and curls up on the angled chairs. She points out the constellations she can see in the pre-show projection.

“Is that Andromeda?” she asks. Bellamy hums for a moment, tilting his head against hers to see what she sees.

“Mmm, no. That’s Ursa Major, the great she-bear,” Bellamy whispers. “According to Roman mythology, that bear is Callisto, one of the nymphs. Jupiter fell in love with her, and his wife Juno got pissed off so she turned her into a bear. Then Callisto’s son is out hunting and sees her, but she’s a bear, so he gets ready to shoot her. And then Jupiter decides the best solution is to turn them both into bear constellations. That’s Arco, her son, over there, Ursa Minor.” He points, indicating the spot, and she lines her arm up with his, following with her eyes.

“I see it,” she whispers back. Her hair smells like berries. He’s so screwed. “Want to know a secret?” she asks him. Bellamy makes a noise that he’s pretty sure means yes, but he’s kind of focussed on the hair thing right now.

“I’m really bad at seeing constellations,” she says. “I love them though. But I can’t ever really make them out.”

“You just asked if Ursa Major was Andromeda, I don’t think that’s a secret,” Bellamy whispers, laughing softly. She makes a noise of complaint. “But I tell you what, our next date, we’ll go stargazing and I’ll teach you how,” he says, and then he thinks, _‘oh shit I did not just say that’._ Clarke twists to smile at him.

“I’d like that. You’re an excellent fake boyfriend, Bellamy Blake,” she says softly. Bellamy smiles at her, and then turns his head back up to the projection. Yep, this was a really stupid idea.

 

It’s one of the weird holidays that Jasper decided should be celebrated, International Ice Cream for Breakfast Day, and somehow he’s been roped into hosting a barbecue for it. Again. It’s a weird mix of people too, because living in a smaller town you kind of end up knowing most people in your age bracket. Miller, Raven, and Bellamy had gone to high school together, but then Monty started dating Miller, and Monty’s best friend is Jasper, so their group kind of expanded. Then Raven’s boyfriend was cheating on her with Clarke, and they somehow turned that into being friends, and Clarke already knew Monty and Jasper from college. Octavia was kind of a package deal with Bellamy, back in the day, and Harper was her best friend, and then Octavia started dating Lincoln, and Harper stared dating Mel, and Raven started dating Wick, and somehow Bellamy’s ended up with way more friends than he set out to have, and they’re all really freaking weird, and he loves them all. He’s standing at the barbecue, pushing some onion around, while Miller and Raven lean up against the fence beside him drinking a beer.

“Not to speak out of turn,” Miller says. “But how goes fake dating Clarke?” Bellamy winces, and they both laugh.

“What happened?” Raven asks. Bellamy sighs and stares at the meat in front of him.

“We went on a fake date to the museum and planetarium,” Bellamy says. When his friends don’t say anything he glances at them in time to see them exchanging a look. “What?”

“You know how I said that fake dating Clarke for the wedding was the stupidest idea you’d ever had?” Raven asks. Bellamy rolls his eyes, and nods.

“I was wrong. This is a new level of stupid,” Raven informs him, and Miller tries not to snicker. Bellamy sighs.

“I’m not agreeing with you,” Bellamy says. “But there is a possibility that you might be right.” They don’t even bother pretending not to laugh at that. Bellamy huffs and flips the burgers.

“You know,” Miller says after a moment. “Clarke’s pretty competitive.”

“What’s your point?” Raven asks.  Miller takes a pull on his beer, and Bellamy raises his eyebrows at him.

“I’m just saying, she might be _trying_ to make you fall in love with her to win the bet,” Miller says. Bellamy feels his stomach bottom out. He actually feels a little ill, because she couldn’t have worked him over better if that was in fact what she was doing. Raven’s jaw drops.

“That would be evil,” Raven offers. “And brilliant. Both things she’s capable of, objectively. But I don’t think she’d do that to a friend.” Bellamy’s stomach starts to feel a little bit better.

“She nearly broke my arm to win at Twister,” Miller reminds them. Bellamy’s stomach drops again.

“That’s not feelings though,” Raven says. “I don’t think she’d mess with anyone’s feelings in the romance department. Not after how she felt with the whole being the other woman debacle.” Bellamy’s stomach attempts to right itself again.

“You’re probably right,” Miller says, taking another pull on his beer. “I just wanted to put it out there.” Raven shrugs, finishes her beer and then pushes off the fence to get another. Bellamy turns the meat again, and he thinks it’s ready. He’s about to say so when Clarke appears beside him.

“Hey fake boyfriend, fallen in love with me yet?” Clarke asks, teasing him. Bellamy gives her his best unimpressed face.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” Bellamy deadpans. Clarke snickers.

“Did you just quote ’10 Things I Hate About You’?” she asks, delighted. He laughs.

“I had a sister,” Bellamy says, pushing the onions around again.

“So did Augustus. Which is a thing I’ve been meaning to ask you about. Are you a nerd because of her name?” Clarke asks him. Bellamy stares at her for a moment. Miller looks between the two of them with a hint of amusement he’s clearly trying to hide.

“Uh, predates it, actually. I named her. I was six, and my mother had been reading stories about ancient Rome to me,” Bellamy says awkwardly. Clarke beams at him.

“That’s super cool. I hope if I have kids I remember to read them cool history stuff instead of damsels and misogynists, which is what I grew up on,” she says. This was the stupidest idea he’s ever had, Bellamy thinks to himself. They were right, and he was wrong, and he should just give her the money now.

“Food’s ready,” Bellamy mutters, not looking at her. “Can you tell everyone?”

“Sure thing,” Clarke says, and she lightly touches his arm before heading back to the group.

“You are so screwed,” Miller says.

“I am so screwed” Bellamy agrees.

“But you aren’t going to stop, are you?” Miller asks, amused.

“I need a date to Lily’s wedding,” Bellamy states. “That hasn’t changed. I don’t want to be the pathetic ex-boyfriend.”

“No,” Miller says. “You’re just going to be the pathetic not-boyfriend. You used to have game.” Bellamy scowls at him.

“How about you make yourself useful and go get the paper plates,” he says. Miller pushes himself off the fence.

“You’re an idiot,” Miller says happily as he walks away.

“I know,” Bellamy says more to himself than anyone else. “I fucking know.”

 

A week later, Bellamy and Clarke go stargazing on a Friday night. She tells him funny stories about students that they share on the drive out, and he laughs and tells her about the ridiculous re-enactments he’s been getting the kids to do. At work, it’s easy and nothing’s changed. They bitch about funding cuts, complain about text books, and just generally talk about school stuff. Bellamy’s surprised how easy it still is at school, and how he doesn’t feel like kissing her or like he’s in love with her. She’s just Clarke, and it’s easy and relaxed and like it usually is. The drive up Mount Weather is like that too, all banter and fun, and normal. But they get out of the car, and Bellamy pulls out a picnic basket and hands it to her, loads his arms up with blankets and a telescope, and tells her to lead the way.

“My father would have loved this,” Clarke says softly as they are getting set up. She never talks about her father, and Bellamy feels kind of special that he gets to hear it. So he doesn’t say anything, just listens. “He really liked the stars. He wanted to work for NASA, but then he met Abby and decided to stay put and work on wind turbines instead.” Bellamy wants to say something but he doesn’t know what.

“My mother would have loved you,” he says in the end. “She used to tell everyone that I needed to be taken down a few notches. She’d say you had fire.” Clarke smiles at him, and it’s a look filled with such sorrow at the parents they miss and the fact that they aren’t alone. Bellamy’s pretty sure he gives her the exact same look back.

“What was her name?” Clarke asks, settling down next to him as he sets up the telescope.

“Aurora,” Bellamy says softly. “What was your father’s name?”

“Jake,” she says, and leans against him. “He was my best friend.” Bellamy nods.

“I forget sometimes that she’s gone and go to tell her something. It’s been ten years and I still forget,” Bellamy says, and he’s not embarrassed of the tears that are welling. It’s actually really nice to talk to someone who gets it. Clarke drapes an arm across his shoulders, and drops her head onto him.

“Me too. I miss him every day. Does it get better?” Clarke asks. Bellamy swallows.

“I don’t know,” Bellamy admits, thinking about it. “It’s not as sharp as it used to be. But… I don’t know. Octavia looks so much like her. Sometimes...” He trails off and takes a deep breath. “Sometimes O will do something or stand a certain way and it’s like she’s back and it’s all been a bad dream.”

“I see Dad in crowds,” Clarke admits. “I think, he’s there, he’s alive, he just had an accident and got amnesia and I can find him and bring him home.” She’s crying, Bellamy can tell, feels her trembling against him. He reaches behind him for a blanket and awkwardly wraps it around them, trying not to shift her too much.

“The worst thing for me is that the last thing I said, we were fighting. She wanted me to stay home and babysit O so she could go into work, and I was so angry at her because I wanted to go to this party. I told her she was ruining my life,” Bellamy says, his own tears starting to fall. “I haven’t told anyone that before.” Clarke shifts, pressing harder against him, and he wraps his arm around her, holding her in place.

“You were eighteen. She knew you loved her,” Clarke whispers. “And look how you’ve honoured her in the man you’ve become. She would be so proud of you.” Bellamy can’t say anything around the lump in his throat, and he can’t stop the tears from falling, so he just sits there, in the dark, holding Clarke tight against him. It’s the first time someone has told him that his mother would be proud of him that he’s believed, and it’s almost as good as hearing his mother be the one to say it.

“The last thing I said to Dad was that he should drive up to see me,” Clarke whispers. “Mother blames me. But it’s not my fault. He said he was planning on coming the next day anyway. It’s not my fault, is it?” Bellamy shakes his head and pulls her in tighter.

“No, it was a drunk driver’s fault. Not yours. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Bellamy says firmly. And Clarke sighs, relaxing against him.

“Thanks,” she says softly. They sit there together in silence for a little while longer, staring out into the stars and dark tree line below them, and the twinkling lights of the city in the distance.

“Okay,” Clarke says eventually, “Show me some stars.” Bellamy shifts his from around her, remembering suddenly that this is a fake date, again, and hating himself because he’s forgotten. He looks through the telescope, trying to find Ursa Major to show her, and thinks that if nothing else, this was real. Because even if she is was trying to win their bet the sneaky way, there’s no way she’d use their dead parents to do it.

 

“Bell?” Octavia asks, trailing behind him in the menswear shop. She didn’t trust him to pick out a shirt for the wedding without her input, and he hadn’t really complained about her insistence. He liked spending time with her, and it was as good of an excuse as any.

“Yeah?” he says, distracted by a navy blue shirt he thought he’d look alright in.

“Are you in love with Clarke?” she asks, and Bellamy would like to formally retract his previous thought about liking spending time with her. He whirls around to look at her, frown on his face.

“No. Of course not. Don’t be stupid,” Bellamy says. “Why do you ask?” Octavia grins at him, full of mischief.

“You are! You denied it three times, that your tell. You’re in love with Clarke Griffin,” she says happily. Bellamy scowls at her.

“Can you at least keep your voice down,” he mutters, turning back to the shirt. She laughs and takes the shirt off the rack, handing it to him.

“Good choice,” she says. “In both the shirt and girl to fall in love with.”  Bellamy groans. “I’m serious. I like Clarke. She’s nice and fun and smart, and way better than Lily ever was.”

“I know. Now you will please shut up about it. I’m going to try this on,” Bellamy grinds out, heading to the change room. Octavia follows him, undeterred.

“What’s the problem?” Octavia asks him. “With loving Clarke I mean.”

“The bet,” Bellamy replies through the changing room door. “We work together, I don’t want to make it weird. And we share too many friends.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s been taking bets on this for years,” Octavia says. “No one is going to be surprised you love her.”

“I don’t… What if she’s just trying to win the bet and I make an idiot of myself?” Bellamy asks. Octavia scoffs.

“You’re a moron,” she tells him. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. She wouldn’t do that to you.” Bellamy opens the door to the change room, arms wide.

“Yes or no?” he asks. Octavia folds her arms across her chest and inspects him.

“Yes,” she says, and he closes the change room door again to get changed. “What’s the real problem with loving Clarke?” Bellamy winces.

“I’m not good enough for her and I’m hoping that it goes away when we stop fake dating,” Bellamy says. “Because everything is normal at school, and then we go on the fake dates and everything is different.” He opens to door to Octavia rolling her eyes.

“For a smart guy, you’re pretty dumb sometimes,” she informs him. “But it’s your life, do what you want.”

“Thanks for your permission,” Bellamy says dryly. And then, because he loves his sister: “Wanna go get a cinnabun?” Octavia grins at him.

“Absolutely.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re still going through with this,” Miller says. “You’re such an idiot. And a masochist.”

“Again, your support over the past three months has meant the world to me,” Bellamy replies dryly. “Seriously, you’re such a great friend. I should get you a card.”

“I am a great friend. You’re still an idiot though. You’re in love with her and you’re making it worse. This is going to cost you way more than a hundred bucks,” Miller says. “I’m worried about you. So is Raven.”

“I appreciate your concern. The wedding is tomorrow, and then it’s all going to be over and everything can go back to normal,” Bellamy replies with a sigh. Miller shakes his head.

“Good luck with that,” Miller offers. “Now are we playing pool or are you moping about your fake girlfriend.” Bellamy glares at him.

“Playing pool. And you’re the one talking about my fake girlfriend,” Bellamy says. “Is there nothing more interesting going on in your life?” Miller shakes his head.

“Nope. Monty’s great, I’m great, work’s normal. And you’ve got some real telenovela shit going on. Way more interesting,” Miller says with a grin.

“There was an earthquake in Nepal,” Bellamy offers.

“Fake girlfriend that you’re in love with is way more interesting, sorry bro,” Miller says.

 

 

Bellamy’s known this was a stupid idea for weeks, and he’s had plenty of time to back out, but he hasn’t. And now he’s standing on Clarke’s front step and she’s wearing a dress that is a suspiciously similar colour to his shirt, and she looks amazing. He’s got a hundred dollars in an envelope in his glove compartment, and he regrets everything and nothing.

“Good enough to make Lily jealous?” Clarke asks, giving him a twirl. Not a date, he reminds himself. Fake date. He feels a little ill. They’re probably going to kiss later and he’s looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure.

“Uh, yeah. But we’re not aiming that high. Just, you know, in love and very over her,” Bellamy says, and he sounds way more awkward than he remembers being ever.

“I reckon we can make that work,” Clarke says, smiling and taking his arm. He leads her to his car and wonders at what point she’s going to figure out that he’s actually in love with her, or if he’s going to have to say it when she asks about their bet. He’s not looking forward to it.

 

 

The ceremony is boring and standard, and Clarke whispers snarky remarks in his ear the whole time about the dresses, colours, and pretty much everything anyone says. He introduces her as his girlfriend to a couple of people who buy it, and she clings to his arm and smiles widely, charming everyone as they mill about outside the ceremony. The reception is a little later, and far enough down the road that they need to drive there, but there isn’t any rush. So Miller and Monty join them, and Clarke keeps making comments about everything wrong with the wedding, her arm looped through his. Monty joins in happily, and Miller just smirks at their banter. They are getting ready to leave when they see Lily and John clearly coming toward their group. Clarke leans slightly closer to him. Bellamy knows this moment has been coming, and while he’s completely over it, he’s still not looking forward to it.

“Bellamy! I’m so pleased you could come to our special day,” Lily says condescendingly, and he can read her voice well enough to hear sympathy in it too. John nods at him.

“Good to see you again,” John says. And Bellamy wonders how it could possibly be good to see him again after everything that happened.

“Congratulations to you both,” Bellamy says, keeping his tone friendly and light. He’s about to introduce Clarke, but Lily turns her back to her, and greets Monty and Miller instead. Clarke raises an eyebrow and gives him a look, Bellamy smirks. He’s tempted to kiss her temple, but just gives her arm a slight squeeze instead.  She bumps against him, smiling. They’ve had an entire conversation without words, and he wonders how the hell he’s going to stop being in love with her when this is all over. John’s still standing beside him, and Bellamy offers him a smile.

“John, this is my girlfriend, Clarke,” Bellamy says. She holds out her hand and smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you, and congratulations. Thanks so much for letting me come along. I know guest lists can be a pain sometimes,” Clarke says, charming him easily. John smiles and shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Clarke,” John says. “It’s nice to see Bellamy happy. How did you two meet?” Bellamy winces internally at the words. He thinks that he just shouldn’t have come to the wedding at all, but he’s here now. Clarke saves him.

“We work together,” Clarke says, she puts her other hand on Bellamy’s arm and smiles at him. “And apparently everyone was right, our arguments were just unresolved sexual tension,” she says with a laugh. Monty snickers beside them, and Bellamy grins at her.

“Well, either we have an abundance of sexual tension or they weren’t just that,” Bellamy tells her. Clarke laughs, rolling her body to press against him from the hip.

“I think it’s the first one,” she teases, and Bellamy manages to smile at her despite the fact he no longer has any idea what is going on in his stomach, his mouth is completely dry, and is it really hot right now all of a sudden?

“Well,” Lily says tightly, cutting over everyone else. “We have to go do the photos. See you at the reception.” Clarke raises her eyebrows as she watches Lily drag John away.

“What a bitch,” Clarke says. It’s the first time she’s met Lily, really. “I seriously cannot believe you used to date her.” Miller chuckles.

“She wasn’t so bad to start with,” he says. “And Bellamy was lonely.” Bellamy scowls.

“Hey! She was the first serious girlfriend I had since my mother died. She told me she loved Octavia, thought I was great, and she’s really great in bed,” Bellamy tried to defend himself. Monty snorted.

“She’d have to be great in bed. Otherwise it would be like jumping in the sack with Skeletor,” Monty says.

“Like you can talk, Bony,” Miller says, bumping his shoulder, and Monty blushes a little as Clarke laughs.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. See you guys at the reception,” Clarke says, pulling Bellamy along beside her, not that she had to pull particularly hard. When they are out of earshot of their friends, she bumps his shoulder.

“I still can’t believe you used to date her. She’s all wrong for you,” Clarke tells him. Bellamy raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah? And who would be right for me?” he flirts with her. She smiles.

“Someone secure in themselves, smart, loyal, and knows how to relax,” Clarke says. “You need someone fun, not high maintenance.”

“You’re right,” he says, surprised. “Huh.” He hadn’t really thought about it before, but she was absolutely right. He wondered if she realised she was describing herself. Clarke laughed at him.

“You’re weird, but I like you Bellamy Blake. This has been really fun, getting to know you better, I mean,” Clarke says. Bellamy smiles at her.

“Back at you, Clarke Griffin.”

 

Bellamy has kind of had enough of the reception before they even get to the main course. Clarke’s table setting had said “Claire Giffin” (“What a bitch,” Clarke said. “I used block letters on the RSVP,” Bellamy assures her. “She wanted you to be miserable over her still. She’s punishing you,” Clarke decides. Bellamy thinks, again, he really should not have bothered coming to the wedding at all). There’s a lot of boring speeches about how great Lily and John are, and to be fair, John does seem like a great guy (“How does Skeletor get all these great, loyal guys?” Clarke asks. “You think I’m great,” Bellamy says, forgetting himself. “Shut up,” Clarke says, bumping his shoulder. “Witchcraft,” Monty offers. “Drugs,” suggests Miller. “Whatever it is, it must work. I wonder if I can kidnap her and torture the secret out of her,” Clarke says thoughtfully. They are shushed by someone on the next table). Clarke still appears to be having a great time, and that might be because she dared Monty to steal a bottle of champagne from the bartender and now they were subtly refilling their glasses and hiding the bottle under the table. But Bellamy’s tired, sick of pretending he’s not in love with Clarke Griffin, and really glad he’s not the one who ended up married to Lily. Clarke nudges his shoulder, dragging him back to the present.

“Sorry,” he says. “Got a little lost in my head.” She smiles at him affectionately.

“Dance with me,” she says. He smiles, stands, and offer her his hand. She takes it, and he leads her out onto the dance floor. She loops her arms around his neck, a feat accomplished due to the miracle of heels, and presses her face against his chest. Bellamy wonders if she can hear his heart beating as he links his hands behind her waist.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this. I hate weddings,” Clarke says softly. “They’re too formal and stuff. I want to elope.” Bellamy chuckles a little, and leans down to talk into the crown of her head.

“That sounds good,” he says. “I used to think I’d have a surprise wedding. Like, hey everyone come over for a barbecue, guess what, we’re getting married in a half hour.” Clarke pulls back to look up at him, and she smiling.

“I like your way too,” she says. “But I’m surprised you ever thought about your wedding. I thought guys didn’t normally do that stuff.” Bellamy shrugs, a little sheepish.

“I don’t know. I want to one day. Get married, have a family. I thought it would be with Lily, but I’m glad it’s not now,” he says. She considers him for a moment.

“Why don’t you have a real girlfriend?” she asks. Bellamy shrugs.

“I just don’t, I guess. I spent a year moping over Lily, and then I just got busy with work and our friends. I was happy. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he says, not quite able to look at her. She hums and presses back into him.

“Same reasons as you, I guess. Moping, work, friends,” she says. “I miss having someone sometimes, but I like my life the way it is too.” Bellamy hums into her hair. She’s changed shampoos, it smells like apples now. They don’t talk for the rest of the song, swaying in each other’s arms. It’s really nice, and Bellamy hates that he put himself in this position. Because it ends tonight, and he knew it would, but he wishes it didn’t. The song changes, and he notices it after the first verse, but Clarke didn’t seem to want to stop either, so he stayed there, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

 

Miller corners him in the bathroom. Bellamy scowls at him in the mirror.

“Look at this,” Miller says, and shows him a picture he’s capture on his phone of he and Clarke dancing. It’s so obvious that he’s in love with her in the photo, and they look like they belong together. In the background, he can see Lily scowling at them. Bellamy sighs.

“Don’t show Clarke,” Bellamy says. Miller raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing. Just pretty sure Monty’s already showed it to her and I’m pretty sure this bet is a draw,” Miller says. Bellamy shakes his head.

“I don’t want to do this right now. I’m going out there to pretend that I’m in love with fake girlfriend to everyone else except her,” Bellamy says, wiping his hands on paper towel.

“Are you going to tell her?” Miller asks. Bellamy nods.

“Got the money in my glove compartment,” Bellamy says. Miller claps him on the shoulder.

“Good luck man,” he says.

“You know, I think that’s the most supportive you’ve been in months,” Bellamy says. Miller rolls his eyes and disappears out the door. Bellamy takes another moment to look at himself in the mirror. _You can do this_ , he tells himself. He nods, and follows Miller out.

 

 

He says his goodbyes not long after, escorting Clarke out on his arm. There has been more touching than usual, and she’s kissed his cheek, and he’s kissed hers, and the top of her head, but other than that, he could almost write the night off as a good time with a friend. Except for the fact that his skin tingles where she touches it with hers. Clarke grins at him once they get to the car.

“Skeletor is a bitch and she was jealous. You won the break up!” Clarke effuses. She’s drunk, and he hopes that going to be his saving grace, despite the physical evidence of the two fifty dollar notes in an envelope.

“Yep. You were a great fake girlfriend,” Bellamy tells her. “Now it’s time to get you home.” Clarke beams at him.

“You’re a pretty good fake boyfriend, too. Our fake dates were better than most of my real dates,” she tells him, closing her eyes. Bellamy focuses on the road.

“Do you remember our bet?” Bellamy asks as they arrive at her house. Clarke hums in reply.

“You won,” he says softly. She doesn’t reply, and he glances over to find her asleep. _She’s so god damn beautiful_ , he thinks. _And completely out of my league._ He leans over her, and carefully opens the glove compartment, slipping the envelope out before closing it. He picks her clutch off the floor and tucks the envelope inside. With one last look at her, he gets out of the car, opens her door, and shakes her awake gently.

“You’re home,” Bellamy tells her softly. She frowns at him, but nods, and he tries not to smile about how adorable sleepy Clarke is. He helps her up to the front door, finds her keys in her clutch and opens the door.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asks. She nods, and smiles at him.

“Yeah. Thanks Bell. You’re the best,” she sighs. He stares at the door she closes behind her for way longer than he should, trying to unhear her say that he was the best.

 

It is 10:15 on a Sunday morning and Bellamy’s in the process of sorting out his laundry when he’s interrupted by some hardcore knocking on his front door. He opens the door to a very tired looking, very angry Clarke Griffin. She holds the envelope up in front of him.

“What the hell is this?” she demands. Bellamy folds his arms across his chest and leans on the door frame.

“Your winnings from our bet. You were right. Rom coms, feelings, all that jazz,” Bellamy says calmly, smiling at her. She’s adorable, and her scowl deepens.

“You’re in love with me?” she demands. “And you tell me by slipping me a hundred bucks like some kind of hooker?” Bellamy snorts out a laugh at that.

“I think I might be in love with you. Temporarily at least. I tried to tell you last night, but you were too drunk, so I just gave you the money. I’m not going to make it weird or anything, and I don’t expect anything from you. But you won, so go buy your shoes, or whatever,” Bellamy says, he’s trying to be honest, and Clarke looks like he’s taken the wind right out of her sails.

“Oh,” she says. “Right.” Bellamy nods.

“Well, if that’s everything, I’m in the middle of laundry,” he tells her, and he’s really quite impressed about how calm he’s being. He thought he’d get flustered, or embarrassed. But he finds that he’s accepted the fact that he loves her, and he’s not ashamed of it. She looks at him like she can’t quite understand what’s happening.

“Right. Okay. See you tomorrow, then,” Clarke says vacantly. He nods at her, steps backwards, and closes the door. He waits to hear her leave his porch, hears her wait for a few moments, sigh, and walk down the steps. He thinks about calling Miller, or Raven, telling them what happened. In the end he goes back to his laundry and decides it went better than expected.

 

It’s Sunday night, and that automatically means Blake family dinner. Octavia shows up with leche flan, flops on his couch and tells him that he’s an idiot.

“I’m so glad you’re my sister, I don’t say that enough,” Bellamy tells her. “You’re so sweet and loving.” Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Shut up, I’m awesome. Miller called me. So, did you tell her?” Octavia asks. Bellamy stirs the sauce on the pork adobo.

“She knows,” Bellamy says.

“That’s not answer, big brother,” Octavia chastises him. He serves rice out on their plates.

“It’s enough of one. I love her, I’m an idiot, and it is what it is. I’ll get over it. What I’m not getting over is the cost of flowers for your wedding. Orchids, O? Are you trying to bankrupt me?” he asks. Octavia rolls her eyes.

“I’m only getting married once. And stop changing the subject. Is it going to be weird?” she asks. Bellamy shrugs.

“Only if she makes it weird. I’m good with just being her friend,” Bellamy says. “And I’m serious about the orchids.”

 

 

If he was being really honest, he was a little bit nervous about seeing Clarke again. He was really hoping it wasn’t going to be weird, but he figured there was a fifty-fifty chance it would be.  He gets into the staffroom at the normal time, and makes himself a coffee. He’s considering whether he should flick through the newspaper or head to his office when she arrives. So he sits at a table and opens the newspaper.

“Morning, Miss Griffin,” he greets her cheerily.

“Hey,” she replies, and she sounds weird. His stomach clenches. He really didn’t want it to be weird. He’s been calm until now, other than his usual berating for himself for being an idiot, but he’s starting to think he’s screwed it up.

“How was your Sunday?” Bellamy says, not looking up. He can hear her making coffee.

“Uh, interesting,” Clarke says after a moment. A white envelope lands on the paper. He looks at it for a moment, before looking up at her. She’s biting her lip, and she looks nervous.

“What’s this?” Bellamy asks, confused. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Open it and find out, idiot,” she says dryly. He looks back down at the envelope. He’s got a suspicion he knows what’s inside, but he’s not sure, and he feels ill. It’s light and thin. He holds his breath and opens it. Two crisp fifty dollar notes. He looks up at Clarke, who still looks nervous, back down at the notes, and then back up to Clarke again.

“What?” he asks. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“The bet,” she says, like she’s talking to an idiot, and maybe she is. She sits down beside him.

“The bet,” he repeats slowly. “The bet that you won. But you winning doesn’t mean I can’t win too.” This is either the best thing that has ever happened to him or the worst moment of his life.

“Yeah, so, you were right. Rom com, feelings, you’re attractive, smart, funny, and genuinely care about me. And I’m really interested about the part where you are great in bed,” Clarke says nervously. Bellamy grins so widely his cheeks hurt, but he can’t help it.

“You love me,” he says, wonder in his tone. Clarke huffs and hits his arm.

“Obviously. And you love me, right?” Clarke asks, nervousness creeping into her tone. Bellamy grins at her.

“Definitely,” he replies. “Want to go on a real date with me tonight?” Clarke grins back.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this combines three prompts:  
> 1) I need you to be my fake date to my ex's wedding  
> 2) This is the stupidest plan you've ever come up with. Of course I'm in  
> 3) Wanna bet?
> 
> I haven't even proof read it and I'm kinda high on pain meds.  
> Let me know if this was a bad idea.
> 
>  
> 
> [TUMBLR](http://wordy-anansi.tumblr.com)


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